“It’s called feminine intuition,” Erica replied. “Check it.”
“Well, check this,” I said softly. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get all crazy over a guy. That sh— stuff that went down with Brian was really hard. I mean, what if I’m just in this ultra fragile state right now, and that’s clouding my judgment? Huh? What if it’s too soon to get involved with someone new? Shouldn’t I have given myself a year? I mean what if—”
“Okay, shut up,” Erica demanded. “You see how fast you made me grate this cheese?”
I peered into the bowl. “Wow.”
“You’re spinning, B! Take some breaths, don’t count them, and calm down,” Erica ordered.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Annie, who sat slapping the spoon as hard as she could against the floor tiles.
“And remember that you’re the one who invited him here to meet me,” Erica said. “That means you really like him. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Stop wigging out.”
“I just don’t wanna get hurt again,” I whispered. “Once he sees all the ugly, he’ll leave like all the rest of them did.”
“Honey, those guys were looking for an impossible woman,” Erica said. “You know the kind of superwoman who doesn’t exist? Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect skin and eyes and personality and body. Perfect in bed. Perfect demeanor. Perfect clothes. Perfect laugh. Perfect—”
“I get it.”
“They will never be happy. They will always be alone. Why? Because they’re searching for something that doesn’t exist.”
“I think they just wanted someone who was normal,” I countered.
“Really? Because I don’t know any person who’s normal.”
“Erica, you know what I mean,” I replied patiently.
“You told me Reece knows about your OCD.”
“He does. But he doesn’t know how bad it gets at times,” I said.
“Okay then. Talk to him about it. Let him know in advance. Come up with a plan of action for when you freak out. Allow him to have a role in helping you manage your condition so that you can grow a better relationship,” Erica explained.
“Wow, sometimes I think you didn’t waste your money on that psych degree after all.”
“You’re one sarcastic bitch. Thank God I’m into those,” Erica replied.
I giggled and gave her a side hug. Just then Reece and Little Noah walked into the kitchen.
“So what are you girls chickchatting about?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say ‘chickchat’?” I replied.
He nodded.
“You mean ‘chitchat’?” Erica asked.
“No. I mean chickchat. You know. When girls chat. Chickchat.”
Erica and I burst out laughing.
“Don’t steal that,” Reece said. “It’s going in an ad campaign.”
We nodded, still laughing.
“So?” Reece prodded.
“We were chickchatting about you, naturally,” Erica replied.
“All good things, I hope,” Reece said.
“From the little we know? Yes,” Erica joked.
Reece chuckled.
“So how’d it go in there?” Erica asked.
“Well, the turtles did it again,” he replied. “There’s no stopping them.”
“Thank God for that,” Erica said. “What would we do if they couldn’t save the day? I shudder—shudder—at the thought.”
“Flip me, Reece!” Little Noah cried.
I grinned and watched Reece pick him up and hang him upside down. He squealed and squirmed as Reece pretended like he was about to drop him.
“Erica, you don’t mind?” Reece called over Little Noah’s racket.
“Wear him out,” she said, lining all the fajita fixings on the counter.
How could this man be so comfortable with people he didn’t know? He spoke to Erica like they were old friends. He played with Little Noah like he’d done it a thousand times. He shook Noah’s hand like they were college buddies reuniting. It upped the mysterious factor, and I knew I’d have to start digging into his past—find out who he really was. Because no one was that affable. No one was that affectionate.
I tried to convince myself that it was an act he put on to charm his way further into my heart. Don’t ask me why I wanted to convince myself of this. Maybe so that it’d all make sense to me. But as we sat at the dinner table laughing and joking and sharing stories, I realized it couldn’t be an act. You see, a genuine nature is too transparent. It has nothing to hide. Only the sinister ones are sneaky. And nothing about Reece Powell was sneaky. He was genuine. Through and through.
7:56 A.M.
Okay, Bailey. You can do this. You’re relaxed. Focused on your goal. Just think of Reece. He’s already inside waiting for you. He wants to see you. He’s falling in love with you. He’s giving you a reason to let go of all this.
“I know,” I whispered.
Don’t be afraid.
I waited for OCD voice to barge in and list all the reasons why I needed to keep my feet firmly planted for two more minutes.
I waited.
And waited some more.
But she never showed. Reece did, though. He walked into the front lobby and leaned against Marjorie’s desk. He grinned and waved at me. I waved back. He looked up at the clock that hung inside the office over the door, then held up his finger signaling one minute remaining.
But I didn’t want to wait one more minute to walk through the door. I didn’t want one more minute separating me from this man I was falling in love with. I didn’t want one more minute dictating my life, so I threw open the door and marched in without a second thought.
His face lit up. “No, you didn’t!”
I looked at my phone: 7:57 A.M.
“Oh, yes I did!” I cried and jumped into his arms. Without thinking. In the office. With other people around.
What. The. Fuck.
I gasped and pulled away quickly, turning my head to glimpse my colleagues’ reactions. Marjorie’s mouth hung open. Christopher raised his eyebrow at Reece. Patricia suppressed a grin.
Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God. What have I done?
You’ve just ruined everything, Bailey. That’s what you’ve done.
Shut up, I thought.
All you had to do was wait one lousy minute, and none of this would have happened.